


A Little Bravery

by amidtheflowers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky is cheerful, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gift Fic, JUST PURE GOODNESS, and a dork, just pure joy, nothing plot heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: After months of skirting around each other, Bucky takes Darcy to an outdoor movie.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leftennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/gifts).



> Hello! Yes, I'm back with another oneshot, and a really cute one. There's no such thing as too many cute fluffy oneshots in the wintershock fandom. This was supposed to be a short 1k little cute fic but I clearly am incapable of writing anything under 5k...
> 
> This fic was written for the darling leftennant, for the days when you need something cute to remember the good in the world.
> 
> Enjoy xx

**A Little Bravery**

.:.

.:.:.

.:.:.:.

“Higher.”

“I am.”

“Higher!”

“I am!”

Jane stomped her foot impatiently, eyes transfixed on the electromagnetic scanner. “ _Higher!_ ”

“Jesus, woman! My arm isn’t detachable!” Darcy snapped, but still rolled further on her tiptoes and attempted to elevate the miniature satellite dish further up in the air. They were lucky the weather wasn’t unbearable today—any hotter and Darcy would’ve point-blank refused to embark on the unannounced expedition to Central Park, Jane’s sudden spike in electromagnetic activity be damned.

“I’m not Jesus-woman. There!” Jane threw up her hands at Darcy, palms facing the bemused woman. “Right there. Oh my god. Don’t move an inch.”

“I can’t hold this position.” Darcy’s voice edged on panic, eyes darting to the scanner Jane was pouring over. The hand holding the satellite began to tremble. “Jane.”

“Thirty seconds,” Jane said fervently, lifting a knee up as support for her notepad as she began scribbling furiously.

Darcy grimaced, calf muscles straining and toes starting to spark with pain. Her eyes bore pleadingly into Jane’s face who was completely unaware of it, head bent over her notepad.  “Jane—I can’t—”

Suddenly two warm hands encircled Darcy’s waist just as she was about to plop back down from her toes, muscles giving out to the painful strain. Darcy inhaled sharply as they steadied her, keeping her elevated without her needing to put in a shred of effort, and her free hand automatically shot up to grasp at the hand supporting her right side.

“I got you, sweetheart,” a voice said easily, smooth as silk with just the barest hint of amusement.

Darcy stilled. She knew that voice. She went out of her way to catch snippets of that voice when she and Jane were on their lunch break. She often stared at that voice’s ass while he got lunch in the cafeteria.

Her eyes lowered, gazing at the fingers splayed on either side of her. The hand she was clutching was warm, firm. The one on the left was shining silver. Darcy swallowed thickly.

Oh yeah. It was him.

Words. She needed to remember how those worked. “Thanks,” said Darcy, then—to her utter shame—“that all those can do?”

The second the words came out Darcy was mortified. _Wrong words!_ Darcy screamed internally. Jane was now looking at them, eyes wide as they darted between Darcy and him— _Bucky Barnes_ —supporting her weight. Darcy’s eyes locked with Jane’s, the latter reading Darcy’s panic immediately.

She stilled when she heard a soft chuckle, warm breath puffing against the shell of her ear that sent tingles down Darcy’s spine. She hoped to God he didn’t feel her slight tremor.

“Nah, they can do more than holding up a pretty girl.” Darcy eyes bugged out and Jane pressed her lips together, holding back a laugh as she averted her eyes back down to the scanner. Darcy wanted to yell at Jane to look the hell back up because she could _not_ do this alone.

“Huh,” was all Darcy managed. Her mind raced to do damage control but—but maybe it wasn’t—maybe it didn’t _need_ to be done—maybe. All clever thought left her mind anyway, so talking was pretty much not happening again.

“This for the magnetic field shift you were doin’ last week, Dr. Foster?” Bucky asked Jane, who glanced up and flashed a quick smile. Darcy’s brow furrowed, filing away this bit of information of Bucky knowing their research.

“That’s the one,” Jane nodded. “I got what we needed. You can put the satellite down now, Darcy.”

Slowly, Darcy brought down the satellite, her muscles stinging a bit from the change in position and blood rushing down her arm. She felt Bucky’s grip on her waist loosen and Darcy dropped down to stand fully on her feet. His hands lingered a second longer than necessary before slipping away. She turned around quickly as he took a step back.

Bucky up close was…something. Something else. Not that she hadn’t seen it—she _had_ , months ago when she first met him, when she was a little buzzed and shoving jalapeño poppers in her mouth—and in her jalapeño, drunken legacy, had taken one look at Bucky’s metal arm before deadpanning, “T’is but a flesh wound, right?”

Darcy vividly remembered Bucky’s mouth dropping, Steve snorting as Sam said, “Man, why didn’t we know about her before?”

Darcy wished her first one-sided conversation with Bucky had been a bit different, and she hadn’t woken up the next day with a splitting headache minus the fun bit where she forgot the night before. No, she remembered. He might remember, but she hoped not. And she couldn’t say more than two words to him since.

Not that she didn’t look. Oh no, she looked. _Looked_ , looked. And found she liked the way he laughed, transforming his face from a cold hermit to boyish glee. She liked how he held the door open for her and called her ‘ma’am’. She liked the way his tac pants clung to his thighs and how he bought cherry pop and apple pies from the cafeteria. His picks on movie nights usually brought in a smaller crowd but Darcy liked them, and Steve did too; they were old, classic movies that Darcy had seen so little of before and was extremely interested in when Bucky put them on. She never said anything and never told him she liked them—hardly had the capacity to look at him without turning pink. But it was small, little things. Little things she was fond of. Things she had no business liking.

Darcy took in the upward curl of his lips and the open expression, eyes blue as the ocean and staring down at her. Darcy smiled back. “Thanks for that. I’m Darcy.”

“I know,” Bucky offered a small smile.

“Right,” Darcy shook her head sheepishly. “You know Jane. Somehow.”

Bucky nodded slowly, but before he could reply Darcy asked, “What’re you doing in the park?”

“Came for a run. Needed some air.” Bucky shrugged, glancing behind him and Darcy followed his gaze. Steve and Sam were some feet away, arms crossed and wearing identical grins as Sam gestured something Darcy didn’t quite catch. Bucky tensed and quickly turned back to her, clearing his throat. “So…”

“Ready to go?” Jane asked, sidling up next to Darcy. Darcy startled and glanced at her friend.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can go.” Darcy turned back and smiled at Bucky. “It was nice talking to you. For once. While I’m not, you know, inebriated.”

The tension melted from Bucky’s shoulders and he grinned, laughing softly. “Glad you let me say something this time.”

Smile widening and biting her lip, she linked arms with Jane and started walking away. She glanced back, just in time to see Bucky shoving Steve before jamming his hands in his pockets, ignoring Sam as he thumped Bucky hard on the back.

**-:-**

Darcy was perusing the lineup of pastries when she heard behind her, “Try the lemon tart. It’s really something.”

Darcy glanced behind her shoulder and her lips parted in surprise. Bucky, tray in hand and setting down an apple pie slice atop it, smiled at Darcy.

“Yeah?”

Bucky nodded. “Damn good.”

“Then why aren’t you getting one?”

Bucky shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Shit’s like crack to me. Can’t go without having at least six.”

Darcy laughed and missed the way Bucky’s eyes lit up as she turned away and plopped the lemon tart onto her tray. She flashed him a grin. “I’ll have to remember that next time I want to bribe you to do something for me.”

Bucky stared at her, and Darcy cleared her throat and looked away. “I’ll let you know how I like it.”

She retreated back to where Jane and Helen Cho were eating, setting her tray down before glancing back where Bucky stood. His eyes were closed and he was gripping his tray tightly. He exhaled hard, shook his head, and strode to a table across the room. Her eyes narrowed when Steve and Sam smiled at Bucky in a way that was more teasing and sympathetic than…well, whatever way people usually smiled in greeting. Darcy decided she would keep an eye out for them.

Darcy Lewis was the butt of no man’s joke.

**-:-**

On movie night, Darcy was rendered speechless when Bucky sat directly beside her.

She glanced around the room and counted five. Five other spots, five potentially cozier and—and cushier—spots where Bucky could have sat, not including the armchair against the wall where he _usually_ would sit. It practically had the words ‘Property of Bucky Barnes’ strewn in gold across the cushions along with a giant metal middle finger. Nobody sat in that armchair except him. Nobody else was allowed. It was unspoken but easily accepted.

Darcy stared as Bucky adjusted himself on the sofa, tucking one leg underneath himself. Feeling her gaze, Bucky glanced at her and smiled. “Any idea what’s on tonight?”

Forcing herself to snap out of her thoughts, Darcy gave a noncommittal shrug. “I think Thor’s feeling Middle Earth right now.”

Bucky groaned, leaning his head back against the cushion. “I can’t sit through another Hobbit movie. It’s all wrong.”

Darcy couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled in the back of her throat, his genuine dismay tugging at her, melting away her anxiety and letting her relax. “God, I know, right? Three whole movies and they _still_ got everything wrong. That takes skill.”

“It’s cheap,” Bucky grimaced, turning his head to face her. “Goddamn disgrace—why the hell was the Pale Orc the main villain? Why was the Arkenstone the dwarves’ goal? Why the fuck was Legolas even in the movies?”

“It _is_ a disgrace,” Darcy agreed, heaving a sigh. “And Peter Jackson’s ruined it for all of us. We’ll never have a Silm movie. Or a fix-it reboot. But hey, at least we saw some pretty elves.”

“What’s Silm?” Bucky asked, brow furrowing.

Darcy blinked. “Silmarillion? No, you don’t know?” Bucky shook his head slowly. “Oh man, we need to fix that. You need to read the Silmarillion. It’s the equivalent of a Tolkien bible but with a lot more drama and Melkor fucking everyone’s shit up, with trash son Fëanor making you want to throttle him in his sleep.”

A spark glinted in Bucky’s eyes, and he muttered quietly, “Guess you’ll have to show me, then, doll.”

Darcy stared at him for a second before her phone started vibrating. Excusing herself, Darcy got up and stepped outside the living room, not noticing a pair of blue eyes following her out.

When Darcy returned she saw Clint dive to the seat where Darcy had been sitting. Bucky stiffened and sent him a glare, opening his mouth to speak, before his eyes darted to Darcy as she crossed the room and settled on the sofa adjacent to them. She sent him a smile and he gave her one in return, albeit somewhat forced. Huh.

Darcy was already nodding off halfway through the movie, effectively missing the yelp that came from Clint when Bucky slugged him hard on the arm.

“What! How was I supposed to know?” Clint hissed as Darcy let out a snore.

**-:-**

Shock registered on Bucky’s face when Darcy dropped a book next to his tray. He read the cover before glancing up at Darcy. “Is this yours?”

“Yup. So you better read it. And don’t dog-ear the pages. It’s my grandad’s copy and I’m keeping it in as mint of a condition as I can. I plan to pass it down to future progeny so, yeah. But read it. The Silmarillion is like nothing you’ve read before.”

A slow smile was creeping on Bucky’s face. He pressed his lips together, almost shyly, before nodding. “I’ll read it.”

Darcy nodded in approval, then glanced at Steve, who was silently watching and hiding a smile. “Hey, Cap.”

“Ma’am,” Steve inclined his head once, the smile finally breaking through. She didn’t notice Sam, sitting on Steve’s right, glaring at Bucky and sharply inclining his head. It wasn’t until Sam growled under his breath and winced as if he’d been kicked that Darcy looked at him. “Something wrong?” Darcy asked him.

Sam shook his head quickly, grabbing the water bottle in front of him. “Just something stuck in my throat.” Bucky was boring a hole in Sam’s face before turning back to Darcy.

“Tell me everything you think while you’re reading it,” said Darcy seriously.

“I will.”

As Darcy walked away, Bucky slumped in his seat and banged his head on the table.

**-:-**

“Oh sweet cheese and crackers,” Darcy groaned as she balanced the light bulb—more like light _pole_ —precariously under one arm while screwing the new light pole with the other.

“Need a little help there, doll?”

Darcy glanced down. Bucky was staring up where Darcy was standing on the lab table, trying to change the light pole with a new one. He dropped a book by her feet.

“You finished already?” Darcy was impressed.

Bucky shrugged easily. “I’m a fast reader. And I like Tolkien. Let me take that pole from you.” Darcy sighed in relief when Bucky slid out the fused light pole from under her arm and set it on the other side of the table.

“Thanks. Real life-saving, brave type, aren’t you?” Darcy drawled as she used her now-free hand to start firmly screwing in the new light pole.

“That’s Steve. I’m just here for the free food.”

Darcy snorted, but gasped when the pole wobbled a bit and she stumbled a little on the lab table. She felt hands steady her at her hips and was immediately filled with a familiar warmth, the kind she’d been patently trying to squash down but was utterly failing. “I got you, Darcy,” Bucky said behind her.

Pole firmly screwed in, Darcy bent down to pick up the rectangular covering and smiled in surprise when Bucky beat her to it, handing it to her. His hand never left her hips, and once she had finished and turned around to get off the table, preparing to go the easy way out and bend down so she could slide off, Darcy squeaked in surprise when Bucky simply lifted her up and set her down in front of him.

Bucky’s hands lingered on her hips. Darcy’s hands had automatically come to rest on his shoulders for balance, and was now blaringly aware that she had not let her hands drop down either.

Months of these moments flashed before her mind and Darcy, having exhausted her efforts to _cool your jets_ and _he’s way out of your league_ , decided enough was enough.

“You said my name.”

Bucky blinked. “Yeah…have I not before?”

Darcy shook her head, licking her lips. “Nope. Sweetheart once, and doll. Or ‘hey’.”

“Must’ve lost my manners when I was in and out of ice,” Bucky replied, lips tugging into a grin. “Don’t recall you sayin’ my name either, Darcy.”

“I just did, Bucky.”

Bucky glanced away, and Darcy couldn’t possibly be misreading this—there was no way. She couldn’t—not this. If she was, well, she could live with that mortifying outcome later.

“So I think you should take me out some time.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to hers, his whole body going still.

 _Shit_. Darcy wanted to bury a hole in the tile and die right there. So she had misread. She misread it all, epically. “Or not. Sorry. Just, you’ve been kind of flirty and I had stayed away at first because I got drunk and quoted Monty Python at you and I haven’t been able to live that down ever since. We’ll move past this. So, Silmarillion? How’d you like—”

“I want to take you out.”

Darcy stopped at the quiet admission. His eyes were boring through hers, light and hopeful and a shade, just a tiny shade embarrassed. “Why?”

Bucky frowned. “Why?”

“Yeah, why?”

Bucky swallowed, pausing to lick his lips in a way that definitely did not distract her. “You’re nice. And funny. I think you’re real pretty and I’ve been sweet on you since you looked at my metal arm and quoted a fucking movie rather than running for the hills screaming.”

“You liked the quote?” Darcy said in surprise.

Bucky huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “That all you picked out from that, doll?”

“No. I mean, this is sort of altering everything I’ve been thinking the last two months. God I couldn’t even look at you, I was so mortified. That and I’ve had a really big Thing for you.”

“I noticed,” Bucky shared a shy little smile. “Hard to miss when the pretty dame can’t stop looking for you whenever we’re in the same room.”

Darcy flushed, glancing away. She felt Bucky’s fingers tighten on her hips. “Weren’t the only one,” Bucky said quietly. “Been trying to work myself up to ask you out the last two weeks. Sam and Steve nearly pushed me towards you to get me to do it…guess I’m not as brave as you think.”

Darcy looked back up at him, realization dawning on her. “So _that’s_ why they were always ragging on you! I thought, I don’t know, it looked like they were making fun. And usually when I was around, like I was…”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and she’d never seen the man horrified before but he was now, and his hands slid up to grip her waist. “Darcy, god no. It wasn’t like that. They were trying to help, help me pull myself together to ask you out. Nothing about you, not like that.”

Darcy nodded, relieved. She knew that was true mostly, but the shadow of doubt had been there.

“So, you want to?” Bucky was looking apprehensive again.

“Yeah,” she said softly. The grin he gave her was infectious, making Darcy beam up at him in return. “Any idea what we should do?”

At this, Bucky’s smile curled up in a less-than-innocent way. “I have an idea.”

**-:-**

“Holy shit! I haven’t been to one of these since—since I was a kid, I think.” Darcy squirmed excitedly in her seat as they parked on the gravel.

“Yeah?” Bucky smiled a little as they stepped out of the car and he grabbed the blankets in the backseat.

Darcy nodded eagerly, falling in step with Bucky as they made their way to the sweeping lawn littered with little chairs and blankets with people talking quietly, a pleasant sort of hum that accompanied quiet little evenings in a park at night. A little sign was propped nearby, and Darcy stopped dead when she read the title: _Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm._

“You’re joking.” Darcy looked at Bucky, eyes wide. Bucky tensed for a fraction of a second, thinking she was angry, before Darcy exclaimed, “A Mary Pickford movie? Seriously? I can’t—I can’t believe this! How…” Bucky laughed at Darcy’s amazement and slipped his arm through hers, guiding her further towards the lawn where a giant canvas was set up in the front.

“Classics night,” Bucky explained. “…That, and I might’ve put in a request.” At Darcy’s questioning look, Bucky ducked his head down. “I might’ve…noticed you liked seeing her movies. When I picked for Friday movie nights.”

Darcy’s mouth dropped in surprise. He noticed that? “How…how did you pick up on that?”

Bucky shrugged. “For one, you actually came down to _watch_ the movies I picked.”

“Of course I did. They’re awesome. I never got into the older movies as a kid so it was really fun seeing the stuff you put on. There’s something timeless about them.” The fondness in the way Bucky looked at her made Darcy’s insides flutter, and she tightened her arm around his. “But how do you know about me and Mary?”

Bucky bit his lip in a sore attempt to stop a smile, but he smiled anyway. “Doll. Every time she came on screen you sighed. _Sighed._ And not a tired one, either.”

“She’s amazing,” said Darcy. “And beautiful. Don’t even try lying that you’re not the slightest bit affected by her.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” he said easily. “Where do you want to sit?”

Darcy pursed her lips, then pointed at a patch of grass not completely surrounded by other blankets. Bucky laid out the blanket and they sat down awkwardly on the lumpy ground.

She sensed it immediately. Bucky sat stiffly, his back straight as his eyes darted over the crowd gathered around the large canvas and projector. His body was tilted slightly away from the screen and his left hand was resting firmly under his thigh, where Darcy suspected a weapon was concealed.

Darcy bit her lip and glanced around. When Darcy turned around completely Bucky finally looked at her, frowning.

“Something wrong?”

“Let’s sit over there.” Darcy pointed to an aged tree all the way in the back near the parking area, branches gnarled and withered with hardly any leaves growing on it. She was already standing up and Bucky stared after her in shock.

“You sure about this, doll? That’s pretty far.”

Darcy nodded. “It’s fine. It overlooks the whole lawn.”

She led them to the tree and Bucky laid out the blanket again. They settled comfortably against the tree, Bucky letting out a quiet sigh when he pressed his back against the bark. They were quiet for a few minutes before Bucky muttered, “Am I that obvious?”

Darcy looked up to see Bucky’s head down, left hand curling and uncurling into a loose fist. “There’s nothing wrong with having rules for yourself.” Bucky said nothing. “Everyone has something. You need to feel safe so you pick something that overlooks a whole area, like the armchair in the living room. Steve almost always has his shield nearby. Thor can’t watch certain episodes of the X-Files. Doesn’t mean it’s something to feel bad about.”

“You noticed all that?” Bucky sounded genuinely impressed. Darcy shrugged her shoulder lightly, fumbling with the hem off her cotton dress as she drew her knees up against her chest. Bucky glanced down at his hand again. “What about you?” Darcy looked at him questioningly, raising a brow. “What’s your rule?”

“Don’t have any.” Darcy paused. “Well, there’s one.”

“What’s that?”

Darcy glanced at Bucky, taking in the way his blue eyes shone darkly in the dim natural light. She smiled wryly. “No kissing on the first date.”

She waited for his reaction. To his credit, Bucky only raised a brow, curious. “There a story with that?”

“There might be.” Darcy didn’t say more, giving him a sweet smile that had Bucky looking away, pressing his lips together in amusement.

“Ooh it’s starting,” Darcy shifted eagerly, grinning when the title credits pulled up. Shivering panels of backstory and dialogue popped up on the screen, soft music singing through the air and Darcy let out a sigh.

“There’s our girl,” Bucky murmured, and Darcy nodded distractedly when a vibrant young woman with long ringlet curls flickered on screen. She couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped her lips.

“I’d eat the pie too,” Darcy noted, watching as Mary’s character gleefully shoved a slice of pie into her mouth.

“I would too. I remember watching this as a kid and thinking how lucky she was.”

Darcy glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

Bucky shrugged as he turned to look at her. “We never had much growing up. Being a kid in the ‘20s was no stroll in a park. Was happy just having a bit of bread, let alone a whole slice of pie.”

“That’s right…the Great Depression,” Darcy realized, but Bucky smirked.

“We woulda been poor with or without the Depression,” Bucky said bluntly. “An immigrant family in Brooklyn? We barely had a chance.”

Darcy turned over this bit of information in her mind, reveling in just how much the man beside her had in him—super soldier aside, Bucky was…

“Is that why you get a slice of pie every day in the cafeteria?” Darcy asked curiously.

A red tint bloomed on Bucky’s neck, not that Darcy could see it. “You noticed that?”

Darcy bit her lip. “Like you said. I’m just a girl who couldn’t stop looking at you when we were in the same room.”

**-:-**

A half hour into the movie, Bucky started glancing at her every few seconds.

At his quiet sigh, Darcy looked at him. He gave her a sheepish look, his shoulders slumped. “You wanna head out, then?”

Darcy blinked. “What? Why?”

“You…you don’t have to force yourself to stay. Just thought this would be good, but we can try somewhere else next time, if…if you want a next time.”

Darcy stared at him blankly. “Bucky…you’re gonna have to explain yourself a bit more. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bucky frowned. “You’ve been looking, well—you’re not having a good time. I can tell. You keep moving and…” his eyes roamed over her face where a little grimace was set in place, but Bucky’s doubtful words cleared Darcy’s expression and she shook her head emphatically.

“Dude, no. That’s not it at all. I’m loving this movie and I love that I’m watching it with you.” Darcy lifted her hand to knock her knuckles against the tree bark, giving a rueful little smile. “The backrest just isn’t very comfortable. It’s really digging into my back.”

Bucky frowned before glancing at her back, half of which was bare against the unforgiving bark thanks to the cut of her dress. “Shit,” he muttered, pressing his fingers against Darcy’s shoulder so he could get a better look at her back. “Shit, doll, your skin’s all red and scratched up.” Darcy shrugged. Bucky was having none of that. “C’mere.”

Bucky shifted his legs, pulling Darcy closer. She hesitated for a second at what he wanted her to do, biting her lip at the closeness that would be involved while her id shouted angrily inside her to stop thinking so deeply and _move_.

Stamping down her lingering doubts, Darcy swiftly swung her knees over Bucky’s leg and nestled in the cradle of his thighs now bracketed around her. She hovered a bit in front of him before Bucky grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him, her back to his chest.

The softness of his shirt and the warmth of his body had Darcy relaxing against him instantly, a contented noise escaping her. She felt Bucky hum and his hands began to slide away, but Darcy grabbed them before they could get away and wrapped them around her.

She felt his breath stutter before exhaling quietly, arms tightening around her and Darcy squirmed against Bucky’s chest comfortably, half-burrowing into him.

She tried focusing on the movie, tried getting lost in Mary’s little coquettish smiles and playful grins, but all she could focus on was Bucky surrounding her, holding her close and how well—how absolutely _perfectly_ they fit together. It was one of those innate little things that felt incredibly attractive in the moment, the fact that he enveloped her in a way that was safe and warm but not overwhelming, his larger frame wrapped around her smaller one. It didn’t help that his fingers had taken to drawing little patterns against her dress where they were resting on her torso. Darcy sighed, leaning her head back to rest against his shoulder.

For a split second she thought maybe that was where the line was for him, her resting her head against him too much, for the fingers drawing patterns on her dress paused. But it was brief and Darcy realized she needn’t worry when his arms squeezed her middle gently before she felt him press his temple against hers.

Darcy smiled, reveling in the softness of his touch and how good he smelled and felt against her. “This is nice.”

She felt him nod. Then, very quietly, she heard him ask, “Does your rule of no kissing only apply to kissing your mouth?”

Darcy’s heart stuttered in her chest. Jesus. Her fingers flexed where they were resting on his arms, thinking. Whatever she said next would set the tone of the rest of the evening. And Darcy had the rule. It was a good rule for her dates.

Bucky wasn’t like most dates. And after skirting around each other for months— _months_ —Darcy thought there was no harm in getting a little something to smile about when she went back to her suite later.

“Yep. Just the lips.”

She heard him inhale sharply. Felt it too. Darcy pressed a little against his chest, fingers tracing idle circles on his arms that circled around her body.

She heard the smile in his voice when he said quietly, “You’re something else, Darcy Lewis.”

Darcy raised a brow. “I’m _awesome_.”

“You are. For a lot of reasons.” She could hear the absolute truth in his words, and Darcy’s mind slowed a bit at the reverent tone his voice held. She didn’t feel nearly qualified for that tone yet.

Bucky’s right hand slipped from where it was wrapped around her belly and he curled his fingers around her hair, sweeping it aside so that her left shoulder was bare. His arm rejoined hers, fingers tangling together with Darcy’s in a tender grip.

The first press of his lips against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. He paused uncertainly and she could feel his eyes watching her, assessing. Darcy squeezed Bucky’s hand, letting her head tilt further to the side. Taking her cue in reaffirming she was okay with what he was doing, Bucky dropped another soft kiss to her shoulder.

Her breath rushed out in a soft sigh when his lips traveled to the sensitive part of her throat where her neck and shoulder met, fingers tightening around his. Bucky pulled back for a second before shifting, straightening, pulling her closer against his chest, before dipping down to kiss her again on the same spot but this time longer, firmer, with the slightest graze of teeth against her skin.

Darcy inhaled sharply, back arching just slightly against him as her head fell against his shoulder. His lips traveled upwards, pressing long, fervent kisses along her neck before stopping at the sensitive flesh below her ear and she shivered again, unable to stop the soft moan. She heard Bucky let out a muted groan against her skin and Darcy’s resolve snapped.

She pulled away from him and twisted around so she could see him properly. “Right, we’re going to nix the rule.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he met her halfway, lips crashing against hers.

In a moment of baser, instinctive appraisal, there were a few things Darcy was sure of when she’d been quietly glancing at Bucky those first few weeks after the Monty Python incident. One, his hands were strong with tapered fingers that looked—sue her, but she couldn’t help thinking it, _knowing it_ —that looked like they’d be really good in the fucking department. Two, she knew that mouth of his would be Darcy’s bane.

It certainly lived up to the assessment. All thoughts flew from her mind as Bucky’s lips slid over hers, teasing and taunting and slow, pushing and pulling like a rising tide. His fingers slid into her hair and he tilted her head to the side, deepening their kiss as their mouths parted. She inhaled sharply, a quiet sigh against his mouth at the first touch of Bucky’s tongue against hers, caressing her tongue as if it was always meant to be there. Something curled inside Darcy, want pooling in her abdomen and spreading through her body like liquid warmth, and she was rising, shifting, never breaking their kiss, as she adjusted and he adjusted with her so she could sit in his lap.

Bucky’s hands clutched at her hips then her waist and slid up her torso to palm her breast, metal thumb brushing against her nipple behind the thin cotton fabric, and Darcy let out a soft whimper. She tore her lips away and pressed her forehead against his, fighting to catch her breath.

“Wow,” said Bucky unsteadily.

Darcy nodded in agreement. “Much…much as I want to keep doing that, believe me I do…I’m not super comfortable doing it in the open this way. This one is a little too open, even for me.”

“Yeah, for me too,” Bucky admitted, sighing as he pulled away from her. Reluctantly they settled back to their former position, Darcy leaning against Bucky’s chest with his arms wrapped securely around her. His breathing had evened out by now but Darcy was still reeling, face hot with just the thought of how much she wanted to kiss him again, how good it had been, and how she could get him to do it again as soon as possible.

His hands played with hers for the rest of the movie, nuzzling against her hair just a little every so often. Soon enough but not _nearly_ soon by any means, the credits began to roll.

“That was awesome,” Darcy grinned as she helped carry the blankets to Bucky’s car.

“Yeah?” Bucky gave a shy smile.

Darcy beamed. “Absolutely. The parts we actually paid attention to? Incredible. Silent movies are their own magic. And then there was Mary Pickford, who’s my forever girl. And you.”

“Wasn’t in the movie, doll,” Bucky grinned as they drove through the city traffic.

“No. But I still liked you there. We should do this again.”

She could practically feel the happiness roll off him when she said that, and he smiled at her. “You really mean that.”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

Bucky shrugged a shoulder half-heartedly as he pulled into the Avengers building parking garage. “Was kinda waiting for you to start running. Couldn’t even sit through a movie with a pretty girl without being hyperaware of every single body in the vicinity. And you hurt your back over it.” His eyes flickered to where Darcy’s hair covered the open back of her sundress, where the angry red scratches lay hidden.

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “We went over this already, Bucky. Everyone has a thing. It’s nothing to feel bad about, let alone expect me to start running away. Seriously, what do you think I do for a living?”

Bucky paused, brow furrowing as they stopped before an elevator. “Science?”

Darcy sighed. “Yes, science. The type that when you see some really crazy shit? Like a tornado in the middle of the night, a guy falling from the sky? I run towards it full speed. Just a part of who I am. I don’t scare easy. And sorry, Bucky, but you’re like the furthest thing from scary.”

Bucky balked at that but said nothing. They stood quietly as the elevator brought them to her floor, and he walked her to her door.

She turned to face him, taking in the serene expression and the hands shoved in his jeans. “Well. This is me.”

Bucky nodded. “I had fun. A lot of fun.”

Darcy bit her lip. “D’you think we could watch some more stuff like that? Maybe…maybe in the living room? Doesn’t have to be on Friday.”

“Of course we can, doll. Tomorrow sound good?”

“Tomorrow sounds perfect. I’m gonna bring you a new book too. Don’t bother asking; it’s a surprise.”

“Wouldn’t dream to ask,” Bucky smiled.

The air around them was shifting, muted. His hands slipped from his pockets as Darcy drew closer, leaning up on her tiptoes as he lowered his head.

The kiss was softer and sweeter, quiet sighs and the sound of their lips against each other, the little moans when their mouths parted and the kiss deepened filling their minds until they were clutching each other, gasping.

“That rule’s about to write itself out, at this point,” Bucky teased, pushing Darcy’s hair behind her ear.

“Nope. Just doesn’t apply to you.”

“You ever gonna tell me why that rule even exists?”

Darcy stared at him, a smile curling at her lips. “Take me out a few more times and I might.”

The answering giddy smile was almost blinding.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A few things! The Monty Python quote is more from the meme than the actual scene with the black knight--it just sounded better in the fic that way. 
> 
> The movie Bucky and Darcy watched was Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm starring Mary Pickford, which came out in 1917--incidentally the year Bucky was born. I absolutely headcanon that he liked Mary Pickford. Who wouldn't? The scene with the pie is gif'd [here](http://marypickford.co.vu/post/119441643264/mary-pickford-in-rebecca-of-sunnybrook-farm-1917), if you're interested. :) 
> 
> I might have plans for a second chapter. Maybe. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! xx


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